Volume I of Deviant Community : The Academy Of Odds
by Mozu The Mochi
Summary: Laurel Winchester knew about Hetalia Academy and what kind of students who were qualified there. But what she didn't knew that their insanity wasn't because of their Abilities, but of their personalities. Bad choice, she got to live with the freaks once in a while. Well, it was her own fault she has to leave her good life and to face something that might kill her in the future. R&R


**Volume I of Deviant Community : The Academy For Odds**

_Voices._

_I remembered voices; their tones were serious. Deadly serious._

_I remembered the cold weather, the patter on the window panes and the trees that danced around the harsh wind._

_I remembered tears, they weren't mine. They belonged to my aunts, older cousins, unknown relatives. Worst, tears which came from my grandmother._

_How a two-year old kid remembered this, was beyond my knowledge as I grew up. But I remembered every tiny details, I remembered seeing everything. I knew. But I can't understand what happened at that time. Why were they crying? I did not know._

"_Laura. . .", my grandma hugged me. I loved the warm embrace, and I closed my eyes, enjoying it while it lasted. . . "I'm sorry."_

_Why is she apologizing? Why are they looking at me with strange looks?_

_What is happening?_

_Somewhere in a distance, a voice called out to me;_

"_Stay strong, my dear. . .", many voices whispered to me, some I can't recognize, "Stay strong. . ."_

_._

_._

_._

**PROLOGUE**

.

.

.

Often, I thought that I always have a good life to begin with. I have friends, loving grandparents and a brother to annoy with. I always thought that nothing could change how happy I was. I led a pretty normal life; going to a decent school, increasing my athletic skills with volleyball tournaments and swimming classes, playing GTA till late night – that kind of life, I was sure, would always stayed that way. But there are people who quoted; life is a movie, life is a book, blah blah blah. Well, you could say that everybody may have their own stories of life. Mine started with the mystery of my parents.

I dimly remembered any moment I talked to my mother, or to listen to a Dad's laughter, and my shoulders blank from the warmth of an embrace of biological parents. Not a single embrace. They were gone before I learn how to count, let alone to understand what occurrences may happen to them. Perhaps, my brother knew. But he never told me – refused, even – despite my desperation to know. Of course, some days I'd forget about it.

But of course, some other days, I'll go on a research frenzy. I'll be on books, the Net, and whatever material I can find. I wasn't exactly a genius like my brother. He was said to have an IQ inseparable to Einstein but I wasn't one to believe that. Truthfully, he was just seventeen and I'm a year younger. But I did caught sight of his exam results – my – they were flawless scores. Okay, you know what? Maybe the IQ thing wasn't false in the first place.

Anyway, you could have asked; How come telling a story about your brother will make my life into somewhat an awesome story? – I know what you're thinking – No, I ain't talking about something related to Spiderman. Once upon a time, I got bitten by a spider and became a mutated human. Nope. And I am not someone getting chosen – or voluntarily joined – to a deadly tournament as well. Please people, those are far too unrealistic.

Well, mine was somewhat complicated.

Anyway, it began with one evening.

That one particular day I'll never forget.

* * *

><p>"Laura?"<p>

I woke up in an instant, not noticing someone's head, thus hitting my forehead against whoever's chin it was. Groggily, I looked up to see the person in front of me and my whereabouts.

"Why are you sleeping in class? The school is closing now. Go home," was what my friend said. Before my visions could get any clearer, she left within seconds.

Sure it was, I'm was in my own classroom. A row of desks were arranged neatly in the class, and I sat in the corner, getting to enjoy the sweet view of the outside, everyday. The stillness was the one that caused me to sleep, maybe. Sunlight poured from the window, washing the tiles with orange and red. The day was soon to be over, and yet, I haven't reach home. The thought of my brother sprang into my head immediately. My legs reacted quickly and I used whatever amount of energy I had to run towards the senior classroom. I stopped to my tracks once I found a senior girl at bay.

"Hey you there!", I yelled, "Did you see Elliot?" I was panting heavily. My school was literally huge – blame to the architect that designed the school – so to search for that damn brother (I still love him, don't worry) throughout the whole area was fucking insane.

The said senior girl turned to face me after a couple of minutes of placing an Economic Studies book into her bag. She smiled when she saw me; "Oh, it's Laura!", she checked her bag, "He was here in about four thirty but I guess he already left."

I checked my watch. The digit five flashed in my digital watch. _Ugh, goddammit._

"Alright, thanks er. . . Mitchie."

"Have a safe trip home!"

I let myself sighed. My legs were Jell-O's now, worn out and weak. Maybe I can just go home straight. But I don't want Pops to start having a heart attack because his favourite grandson was missing. Agh, whatever. He was too smart to be kidnapped by someone. With that thought, I smiled and foolishly walked back home, little ombre' curls bouncing on my back.

My home was quite far. I lived with old people, and they're exactly like most elders who preferred to face green lushes and thick branches than constructions. So, each day, I have to walk up a few kilometres. Not to fret, but heading to groceries was much more pain in the ass. That is why I shove errands to Elliot, since he really needs to work out and not to face his books twenty-four seven. By the time I arrived, the sun was soon to leave, descending as if to slumber. Though, I was already accustomed to the darkness, a benefit to live beside a clump of trees. Amidst the nearly dark setting, my eyes of maya blue caught glimpses of similar brownish patch from afar, heading to a mysterious car. The ride seemed strange, carrying an air of mystery on its polished black steel. Two men greeted the person I knew best.

A queer feeling struck me, making me feel afraid.

"Elliot!", I screamed at the top of my lungs, hoping he'd hear. He did. And he didn't seem to be amused. I wasn't either. Not when he was carrying his trunk to the car and his duffel bag hanging loosely around his shoulder. My wide eyes focused on him with sheer surprise and confusion.

I was hoping for an explanation. But I knew he would refuse to tell me. What I didn't expect was him to be cold towards me, and his voice attacked me like an icy blade; "Go inside, Laura," he spat, same blue eyes hardened into a glare. He was acting different, sending a shiver to my body. But I kept to the ground, my teeth clenching and kept my stubbornness at bay – the need to know was unbearable.

"No," I stepped closer to him, "Not before you tell me what happen here, who are these guys, what are they doi –"

"Laurel Winchester," Elliot sighed, "Shut up and leave."

"Who's this?", one of the man in suit spoke, but we both left him and his question in ignorance. He looked to the other one, eyes hidden behind sunglasses so I can't make sure what emotion exactly Mr Suitman Number One showed.

Torn, I looked at him with my own blue in teary orbs. The rivulets at bay, pride seemed to stop from falling. "I won't. . . I won't leave."

"Laura, this is something you can't know –"

"About what?! You're leaving me like Mom and Dad?!", his sentence was disrupted by my anger. My voice, audibly loud, had caused my grandparents to come outside. I whipped my head to face Grandpa; "Why are you letting him go?!"

The old man only sighed, shaking his head, his old wrinkled face sketched the agony and the pain that washed away his positive emotions. Beside him, Grandma held a similar look with the addition of little tears on the corner of her pale greyish-blue eyes.

"Laura, let him be."

"Why?! Why –"

They knew. They knew what happened to my parents. They knew why both of them left. They knew what will happen to Elliot. They knew where he'll be after this. After all this years, my efforts felt like nothing. It left a bitter taste in my mouth, and I found my hands balled into fists. With anger that boiled in me, I punched my brother on the jaw.

_Why me?_

My tears were finally set free from their invisible prison.

"Laura, I –"

"Go away! Stay away from me. . . Do whatever you want," I hissed with my eyes turned cold. He looked at me painfully, as if searching for an apology;

"S. . . Sorry."

I couldn't remember anything after that. My mind, once reeling with thoughts, went blank for quite a long time. Devoid of anything. For hours, I stayed in my bedroom, staring at the low ceiling. My desk, as usual, filled with books and particulars were left untouched for the day. Outside, Grandma knocked on my door, and I heard her ever-so-gently voice; "Laurel dear, you have to eat."

"No thanks, I'm cool."

"Could you at least go out then?"

". . . Can I have a moment alone, please?", I said through muffled voice, stuffing my face beneath pillows. After a few minutes of quietude, I assumed she left. Finally at peace, I decided to occupy myself with more researches. I dug more information in the Net, but there was none that ever showed about my family.

Damn, I'm clueless.

. . . Or maybe, not so clueless.

An idea popped into my head. My brother had left just this evening, giving me opportunity to stalk into his bedroom, which in my entire life, had never entered. By that fact, I noted, was something to be curious about. He entered mine multiple times a day, sometimes with no reason at all, but I never went into his. He forbid too. Sure, he's not Dexter from Cartoon Network's show.

It sounded unfair to me.

Elliot had his life in private. While mine was open to anyone – I completely shared my life's story; what I did in school, who were my friends, et cetera. Meanwhile, he get to live peacefully with Grandpa asking him his personal details. Geez.

With that thought – albeit it sounded rebellious – I decided to enter the room I had been curious since early childhood.

So, I waited.

8PM. I occupied my time with Ghostbusters, admiring the old movie and Bill Murray. He was a great actor. Then, another minute ticked by, I switched to Pokemon.

9PM. I heard the switches flipped off. The light once present beneath the space in between was entirely gone, leaving a pitch black, empty hole. My eyes couldn't stop from rolling in amusement and also a glad feeling. Early bird. My grandparents will never change.

Silently, I crept to the kitchen – food first before work – and then to the bedroom, mouth stuffed with egg rolls. Can't help it, Grandma's Chinese was always the best. It actually lifted my mood into high spirits.

9.30PM. My spy mode was switched on, and I felt ready to be Nancy Drew. Lame one, to be exact. Once finished with the food (I went to get more), I let myself an excited squeal – God knows why. Then I jolted the hinges –

Oh, fuck doors and locks!

"Don't be panic, Laurie. You're a Winchester," a confident smile stretched, "You can do this thing."

A hairpin was always handy. And friends are people who brought benefits to life. Mixing those two, you are considered lucky enough. Especially in crucial times. Thank God I always skipped classes and my friends taught me how to do this. And guess what? It fucking works. It FUC – Okay, save celebration for later purposes.

Stealthily, I slipped my way into the room. . . only to find something which is beyond reality.

* * *

><p>Grandma always tell me stories about amazing people with incredible powers. Physic-like powers to be exact. No, I'm still not telling you about Spiderman – not mutated people – nor X-men. And I'm not saying they're heroes who are totally exposed to the public in order to save the world. They were experiments, with powers the scientists called the Ability. And Grandma always told me about them being able to do anything based on their Ability. For example, some could fly, some have the ability of moving things according to their mind – telekinesis – and so on. There were thousands of people, all with their respective supernatural skills, but they were locked in a prison saved for further researches. Lab rats.<p>

I never knew it was actually real.

The humans – the normal humans – often heard of tales like this, but we were told they were simply legends. Myths. And adults were those who said, "They can't be real!". Because they don't want it to be real.

They refused to believe it was real.

And presumably, Elliot was one with an Ability. High intelligence, maybe. And gosh, his sister was an idiot to never figure that out. Suddenly, all the pieces of previous events were connected. It makes sense now. At least, a bit explanation.

Here I was, inside his room that didn't looked exactly like a bedroom. There was a bed, alright. But others, I'm not so sure how to describe those. The room was not spacious, but it wasn't small either. Hence, Elliot's pieces of creations, technology he created beyond engineers' capability; from machines to devices, were placed in the room. Some of them I wondered how he possibly could create as such. Screw Physics, my brother maybe could have broken Newton's Law since the age of elementary!

"What the hell. . .", was all the words that managed to slip from my lips.

I was intrigued. Proud. Even disappointed for not finding out earlier, but mostly proud. But I can't idle all day. I need to find more data if possible.

Quick on my feet, I sashayed towards his working desk, filled with strange and advanced – even more advanced than college – books and papers, and began to search. Most were just a bunch of formulas, studies, reports and other useless things that I can't make out what they were due to his messy, spidery handwriting. An hour passed without I notice. Still, nothing. I almost wanted to give up, my patience wearing thin that I pushed away the papers from the desk. Many came flying to the floor, scattered. One landed on my feet, and I groaned to pick it up. However – finally luck for me – it was a letter. A mysterious-looking letter. Trembling, I tear the envelope that sealed away the letter and read the first address.

_Hetalia Academy._

. . . Interesting.

I scanned through a few details, and a wicked grin crawled on my lips.

Well, at least that was a few things I gained.

What I didn't know was that my life ahead would change the moment I found out about the school.

**TO BE CONTINUED**

* * *

><p><strong>Mozuchii : Hey guys! It's been months since I posted anything. My Life With Boys, as you all know it, had been discontinued. I've read it multiple times and I am not satisfied about my writing skills at all. It was embarrassing for me. But for those who loved it, THANK YOU SO MUCH! Now I'm back with another story, a serious trilogy but I'm keeping it balanced with humor and real plot. So please stay tune with this story, okay? And I'm not making this story short at all. My aim was twenty chapters. So please, support me with all due respect!<strong>

**Aaaand~ I'm giving you the chance of giving me suggestions. First and foremost, there are only few characters which I have confirmed their Abilities. But only a few! I only confirmed France, Italy, Spain, Prussia, England, America, Greece and Canada. If you have ideas, put it in the review!**

**Second, I'm not sure to make this OCxHetalia's character or OCxOC. If you vote for OCxOC, and you have some OCs, tell me! But you have to answer my question first. The first one correct gets to be the main hero (I need male OCs only!) and I only choose one.**

**Next, please comment my writing! Is it good? Is it rusty? I don't know anymore. It's been a while since I touched a computer because. . . y'know. . . studies. So please review what you think! And do be gentle!**

**That's all.**

**Enjoy~!**

**-Mozuchii**


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